


The Proper Motivation

by SmileAndASong



Category: Bandom, HIM (Band), Jackass (Movies) RPF, Viva La Bam RPF
Genre: 2000s, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Awkward Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, M/M, Skateboarding, sk8r boi and his goth gf, that's it that's what vam is folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28620204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmileAndASong/pseuds/SmileAndASong
Summary: “If I do this right here, then I’m chilling with Ville Valo.”Or, the one where the skater boy gets the attention of the hot goth.
Relationships: Bam Margera/Ville Valo
Comments: 5
Kudos: 12





	The Proper Motivation

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't believe it when I wrote the first Vam fic a few months back, and here I am, back at it again with another one, and now even MORE obsessed. Seriously, I spend all of my time looking through the tags on tumblr, listening to HIM, and watching old Jackass clips on YouTube.
> 
> And speaking of clips! The main inspiration for this fic and where the quote from the summary comes from is [in this video](https://youtu.be/NCN31qlPlow?t=160), mark 2:40. This also does a far better job of showing the trick Bam is trying to get down than I do (sorry for bad skateboarding descriptions, all of my knowledge of the sport extends to Tony Hawk Pro Skater 3 and Viva La Bam). I saw this and immediately had the idea to come up with an alternate Vam meeting, one where I can go full on skater boy and goth gf, because at the end of the day, what are they if not that?
> 
> Fic is unbeta'd and was written very quickly, any mistakes are my own. Thank you for reading and caring about Vam in 2021, comments and kudos are always appreciated!

Bam hisses as he, once again, falls off his skateboard and skids down the ramp on his knees. He groans and hoists himself up, grabbing his board.

“That time was really close, Mr. Margera!” A kid from the sidelines says, still just as enthusiastic as the last twenty times he’s said it. He’s been here watching Bam fall on his ass over and over again for the past few hours now. A slightly larger crowd had been here earlier, as word quickly got out that professional skateboarder Bam Margera was in Los Angeles and freestyling at the local skatepark. But most of them had since dissipated, probably because of how late in the day it is, with the last bit of sunlight just barely present in the sky. 

That, or they finally realized that an actual _good_ skater who could land a damn trick wouldn’t be showing up (maybe Bam should’ve called Birdman after all).

The kid looks over his shoulder at the sound of a voice in the distance. It’s muffled, but still discernible enough for Bam to recognize it as a mother hollering for her son. He’d know that sound anywhere, what with how many times his own mother has screeched his name over the years.

“Aw, man, I gotta go…” The kid whines and stands up. “Thanks again for signing my board, Mr. Margera!” He flips the back of his deck where Bam’s scribbly autograph is and grins widely, missing teeth and all. “Good luck with the trick. And no matter what anyone says, you don’t suck!”

“Hey! Who the hell’s going around saying I suck?” The kid’s running off before Bam gets an answer. Bam scoffs and waves a dismissive hand, turning away. 

To be fair, whoever is saying that isn’t entirely wrong. He _does_ suck. Or at least he does today. 

Now Bam could blame it on a lot of different things -- his shitty board, the jet-lag from having just flown in, how ungodly hot it is in this state for November -- but those would all be excuses. And even though Bam’s the king of excuses when it comes to getting his ass out of the trouble that he always gets himself into, he doesn’t permit them when it comes to skating. No, that he actually takes full responsibility for (and it’s the only instance in his life where he actually does).

So he hikes up the ramp to try once again.

Dropping the board, he gets on and drops in, going back and forth a few times on the ramp to build speed. Once he thinks he has enough, he takes a deep breath. He leans forward as he rides up the top of the ramp, grabs the nose of his board, jumps up and, -- wipes out, yet again.

“Fuck!” He snarls, grabbing his board and throwing it in rage. It tumbles and falls off the ramp, rolling right toward a guy that Bam only just notices. 

And here he thought all of his so-called ‘fans’ had left.

“Now didn’t your mother ever tell you not to throw your things?” The guy says, and immediately, Bam notices that he’s got an accent. He can’t pinpoint just what sort it is, but if he had to guess, it sounds European. It’s hard to tell for sure, because Bam can barely see the guy; he’s pretty shrouded by the growing shadows of dusk.

“She tells me a lot of things, but I never listen, it’s sort of my thing.” Bam hops off the ramp and moves toward the guy, a little hesitant. It’s not that he thinks he’s gonna get jumped or anything -- he’s just down the road from Beverly friggin’ Hills -- but still, it’s all a little eerie.

The guy chuckles and reaches down to pick up Bam’s skateboard. “Well, you’re pretty good with this thing. You wouldn’t want to break it, would you?”

“Actually, breaking shit is also sort of my thing.” What did this guy mean ‘pretty good’? He’s (usually) fucking awesome! Did he really not know who Bam is? Sure, Bam’s not on Tony Hawk level of fame -- at least not yet -- but he assumed anyone watching him would actually know who he is. 

He shakes the bitterness of his ego and moves in front of the guy, who also takes a step forward, finally allowing Bam to get a good look at him and --

“Wow…” Bam says, unintentionally out-loud, but really, he can’t help it. He’s completely taken aback because this guy is pretty -- _really_ pretty. 

He’s tall and slender in a way that makes him look almost feminine, with soft, wavy brown hair poking from the ends of the beanie he’s wearing. His sense of style and fashion is certainly...unique, to say the least. Bam’s never seen anyone wear a scarf and a tank top together before -- definitely not in this weather -- but he’ll admit, he’s not exactly the pinnacle of fashion forward in his baggy jeans and Element t-shirt. Maybe it’s just a trend he’s not up to date on. Either way, the guy wears his all black ensemble well, and it perfectly compliments the gorgeous sleeve of ink he has covering every inch of his left arm. 

He looks like a goth, but it’s different, almost like ‘Marilyn Manson meets Parisan chic’. So is he a goth then? Bam’s not sure. What he is sure of, though, is that he is staring, blatantly so.

Blinking and (barely) regaining what's left of his composure, he clears his throat before speaking. “Thanks for, uh, picking that up for me.” He nods to the skateboard and he wants to take it, but suddenly, he’s forgotten how his arms work. 

“Oh, of course!” Pretty man says in a light voice as he offers the board to Bam. Slowly, Bam reaches out and takes it back, his hand brushing against the other man’s in passing and turning hot, along with the rest of him. “You’re not going to try it again, are you? It’s getting dark out. And if you’re struggling this much with light I can only imagine how difficult it’ll be without it.”

The jab, indirect or not, completely escapes Bam, because he can only focus on one thing that Pretty man says: “You’ve been watching me?”

Pretty man nods. “Mmm, yes, for a little while.” He slides a hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulls out a cigarette and a lighter, which, considering how fucking tight those pants are, it’s astonishing that he’s got the room. “I was doing a little sightseeing and overheard that some famous skateboarder was at the park. Thought I’d come see for myself.”

“Me,” Bam says, quickly. Probably a little _too_ quickly. “I mean!” He continues. “I’m that skateboarder they were talking about. Bam Margera?”

“Oh, really?” Pretty man asks, his interest piqued. “I thought it was that Hawk man.” 

Did _anyone_ know skateboarders outside of Tony Hawk? Bam huffs stubbornly. “Nope, it’s me. Sorry to disappoint.”

“No, no, not a disappointment at all! Simply unexpected is all.” Pretty man extends his hand out to Bam. “It’s nice to meet you...Bam, was it? That’s a cute name. I’m Ville.”

Bam shakes Ville’s hand, and surprisingly, it’s not soft like he’d been expecting. It’s actually kind of rough and calloused, especially at the tips of his fingers, and it just makes Bam even more intrigued by him. “You play guitar?” He asks, seemingly out of nowhere.

Ville raises a brow and he grins. “How did you know?”

“Your hands.” God, creepy much? “I mean!” Bam continues, quickly. “My brother, he’s in a band. And his hands, they feel like that, too.”

“Well, your brother and I have that in common. So am I.” Ville pauses and takes another drag from his cigarette. “He’s the guitarist, then?”

Bam shakes his head. “No, he plays drums. He’s shit at the guitar.”

Ville chuckles, exhaling the smoke as he does so. “Your brother and I have that in common as well. I play guitar, yes, but certainly not well.”

“So if it’s not guitar, what do you do in your band?”

“I sing.”

He’s the singer. Of _course_ he’s the singer, what else would he be? Not that all singers in rock bands are pretty -- far from it -- but more often than not, they are, and this guy, Ville, is a perfect example of that.

“That’s cool,” Bam says, wishing he could say more, but for once in his very loud and obnoxious existence, words are proving to be quite the challenge for him. “You guys, uh, local in the LA scene then?”

Ville shakes his head. “We’re from Finland.” That explains the accent. “But I’m not here with my band, I’m on my own. Sort of a research mission, I suppose. Looking at what’s popular in America and how we can potentially use it in our music and image. Because as much as we hate to admit it, you Americans really control the scene and our success in it.”

Once again, there’s only one thing Bam takes away from that: “So you’re alone?”

Ville eyes Bam, looking confused. “Yes, I’m on my own. Why do you ask?”

“Because I’m here on my own, too,” Bam explains. “And seeing as we’re both here, visiting and alone, maybe we could chill?”

Much like how Bam can’t make excuses for his skateboarding shortcomings, he can’t, as much as he wants to, deny the fact that he just openly hit on a guy. Honestly, he’s too busy being bewildered by the fact that he got anything coherent out at all, let alone that smooth. Ville’s not the first guy Bam's made an advance on, hell, not even this week, and he certainly won’t be the last. Still, it’s not something Bam is particularly forthcoming about; not with the scene he’s in. 

But they’re here and they’re alone, both in the current moment at the skatepark and for (presumably) the next few days in the city. 

So why not ‘chill’ a bit? 

A smirk surfaces on Ville’s face. “Clearly your mother didn’t warn you about hanging around strangers either.”

“No, she did, but once again, I didn’t listen,” Bam says, that smugness (and obnoxiousness) slowly but surely coming back in his voice as he grins at Ville.

“Well, _my_ mother told me to be wary of strangers, even if they are famous skateboarders,” Ville says, a clear playfulness in his tone that tells Bam he’s not disinterested -- far from it. He just wants Bam to work for it; normally, that's something Bam absolutely hates. But for a pretty Finnish rockstar? He’s willing to try.

“I’ll tell you what.” Bam points back at the ramp behind him. “If I nail that trick you’ve watched me fuck up all day, you give me your cell phone number. Deal?”

“How do you know I have a cell phone?”

“It’s 2000, and you’re a hot European rockstar. Of course you have a cell phone.”

Ville snickers. “Guilty as charged.” He hums, tapping those calloused fingertips against his lips as he considers. “Alright, we can do that. But one chance, that’s all you’re getting.”

“That’s all I need.” Bam drops his board on the ground and skates back to the ramp, Ville following along behind him. He climbs to the top, waiting until Ville is in a good spot before he drops in and begins to skate. Just like before, he skates back and forth a few times to build up speed, glancing over at Ville who is watching him intently with those striking green eyes and that warm, easy smile still on his face.

Looking back at the ramp ahead of him, Bam rides up to the top. He grabs the nose of his board, jumps up and ---he does it! He lands it! Finally! 

“Hell yeah!” He exclaims, loudly and triumphantly. And the best part of it all? It’s not just the trick he’s ‘landed’; there’s a far better prize he’s won.

Jumping off the ramp on his board, he lands next to Ville, who is clapping for him. “What did I say? One chance is all I need.”

“Never doubted you for a second, darling,” Ville says, the pet name rolling off his lips smoothly. “You just needed the proper motivation.”

Bam snorts. “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it.” He pulls out his cell phone and flips it open, handing it to Ville. “I suppose I should be thanking you, huh?”

“Oh I think you’ll come up with plenty of ways to thank me. And don’t you worry, I’ll be holding you to that,” He says, his voice assured, like it’s a promise, a very sensual-sounding one that Bam sincerely hopes he keeps. 

Ville types his number in Bam’s phone before handing it back to him. “I’ll be here until Friday. That should be plenty of time to ‘chill’.” Taking one last drag of his cigarette, he stomps it out with his boot before turning on his heel. “See you soon, Mr. Professional Skater.” He winks before walking off.

Bam watches Ville as he goes, the grin on his face now stretching from ear to ear. Once Ville is out of sight, Bam looks back at the ramp. Grabbing his board, he climbs to the top for what feels like the millionth time now and drops in. 

He builds up his speed and rides to the top of the ramp, grabbing the nose of his board and jumping up. And once again, he does it. He nails the trick with ease, landing just as the last bit of the warm California sun exits the sky.

Just needed the proper motivation indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> for the sake of simplicity, let's pretend that Ville's 2000 European cell phone would work fine in america with no problems
> 
> I hope you enjoyed, and feel free to chat with me about Vam [on tumblr](https://smileandasong.tumblr.com/) anytime, because believe me, I want to talk about it (it's gotten so bad I even have [specific blog](https://villevalos.tumblr.com) for it, too.) But really, talking with so many Vam shippers is really what motivated me to want to write more in the first place. It's been so great connecting with so many awesome people through this ship that, despite not really being relevant for well over a decade now, still means so much to a lot of us! 
> 
> The Vam resurgence of the 2020s is in full swing, I love to see it, and hopefully, you do as well. thanks again for reading :)


End file.
